


No Curtain Call

by Ladytalon



Series: The Doctors Light [20]
Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Character Death, Dark, F/M, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-23
Updated: 2015-04-23
Packaged: 2018-03-25 10:06:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3806422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladytalon/pseuds/Ladytalon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He should have just told Libra no.  <b>EARTH-14</b></p>
            </blockquote>





	No Curtain Call

He scrubs his hands over his face and shuts off the water, looking into the mirror above the sink. He looks the same as he always does which is odd, because he feels as though he's aged twenty years in the last week alone. His actions are racing to catch up with him, and his life is about to go up in flames – how can his appearance not reflect that?

Arthur Light stares at his reflection, wondering why he couldn't have simply told Libra _no_. Just like Luthor; wanting more power, more influence because the bit that he had wasn't enough. Now it's much too late to say he'd rather not, thanks so much. 

He has nothing at all against the Martian – quite the opposite, in fact. J'onn had been one of the first to accept his relationship with Kimiyo, and was always pleasant whenever their paths crossed, so it's a shame that he's going to die. Libra hasn't said that word, _kill_ , but Arthur didn't get his doctorate by being stupid. In three days he'll find out whom Libra has chosen to accompany him, and then they will bring J'onzz to the slaughter by any means necessary.

Arthur opens the bathroom door and walks back out to the mound of blankets that Kimiyo has buried herself under. She murmurs something in her sleep and rolls over towards him as he gets into the bed. He lays on his side watching her and wondering yet again what he's ever done to deserve her; Kimiyo will hate him for what he's done, that much is certain…but as long as she's alive to do it, that's all that matters to him.

Libra had chosen his collateral only too well.

He's never been a killer. Oh, he's _killed_ before but it's only ever been accidental or in self-defense – never anything premeditated, though he's dreamed often enough about doing away with Amanda Waller…but who hasn't? A part of him knows that it won't be enough to simply abduct the Martian; Libra's hold on him, the lives of Kimiyo and her two children, is too strong for a mere kidnapping.

Kimiyo's limbs thrash in a falling dream and he reaches out to place his hand on her chest to steady her, feeling her suddenly racing heartbeat slow at the reassuring contact. Arthur moves his hand up to brush a chunk of hair off of her face, and she slowly opens her eyes to look at him. "Artie?" 

"Go back to sleep," he says softly, pulling the covers up to her neck.

Instead of doing as he asks, she frowns at him. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing-"

"Don't say it's nothing; you've been tense all week," Kimiyo says, reaching out to tug at his goatee. "I'm worried about you."

Jesus. Arthur wipes his palm down his face. "There's nothing to be worried about." He pulls her over as she opens her mouth to argue, abruptly filled with an urge to get as close as he can to her – it might be the last time. Arthur tangles his fingers in her hair, pressing her head to his chest. "I love you; you know that. I'd do anything for you, _anything_."

"Arthur, what-"

He feverishly kisses her words away until her bottom lip is swollen from it, and she clutches at his bare shoulders. "Everything's going to be fine," Arthur whispers, more to himself than her. He makes love to her, memorizing the way her back arches just so and how her voice swings up sharply when he finds a rhythm that she likes. The way her whole body glows afterwards. The way she tells him that she loves him.

In the morning when she's too tired to leave at the same time he does, Arthur gets dressed and tells her to stay in bed. "I'll be back soon," he promises, leaning over to kiss her forehead. Kimiyo rolls over in the warm spot on his side of the bed, smiling as she closes her eyes.

Libra contacts him by way of Evan McCulloch, who's waiting for him outside. "Yer lady still in there rumplin' the sheets?" the Scotsman asks, waggling his eyebrows and grinning.

"If my personal life were any of your business, I _still_ wouldn't tell you."

"Aw, Kimmi likes me!"

"Keep dreaming," Arthur says, scowling. "What do you want?" He jerks his head towards the sidewalk and the other man falls into step with him.

McCulloch coughs and unzips his jacket, angling towards him and showing that he's wearing his suit beneath it. "We're on."

Arthur goes cold. It's too early; they're supposed to do this two days from now. "I thought that Tuesday-"

"You an' me both, mate. Got the call a little bit ago. Mirror Master an' Doctor Light, together again!"

"Blindingly obvious," Arthur replies out of habit, and out of the corner of his eye he can see Evan smile. "Who did he threaten?"

The smile disappears. "My mother. Look, we're set to swipe a chair – y'remember Metron?"

They stop at the traffic light and Arthur shoulders the bag that holds his suit and helmet, wanting nothing more than to go back to Kimiyo and tell her everything. _Too late_. "And after we have the chair, the Martian."

The morning goes past in a blur; they retrieve the chair for Metron, hospitalizing four Titans in the process, and their new ringleader smiles as he inquires after Evan's mother. Arthur only receives a meaningful look as he's sent after J'onn J'onzz with nothing but a sack full of pyro-tranquilizers. 

Finding the Martian is laughably easy – all he has to do is pick up the phone and ask J'onn to meet him on neutral ground. Not having the two extra days to prepare his strategy, Arthur quickly comes to the decision that all he has to do is use his inner turmoil to fool the telepath.

It works like a charm. He's staring into his helmet and idly rubbing a corner of his cape over the metal band when J'onn approaches from the alleyway, and it's not hard at all to let his worries over Kimiyo's safety well up into his consciousness. "Arthur, I'm glad you're here," the man says, extending a friendly hand.

 _I'm not_ , Arthur thinks, and J'onn's expression flickers as he catches it. Before further suspicion can take root, Arthur reaches out to shake J'onn's hand and the action drives the concealed tranquilizer into the Martian's palm. "I'm sorry." He shoves the next syringe into J'onn's neck and works quickly to use the rest of the stash, not sure if a telepathic S.O.S. has been sent and unwilling to wait around to make sure one hasn't been issued.

Kneeling beside the fallen League member and gripping the red halter of J'onn's costume, Arthur teleports them both back to Libra's headquarters. Once there, he begins sliding the needles from the Martian's unconscious body while a few others from the Secret Society gather to watch and make comments. While he'd been waiting for J'onnz to show up, Arthur had ensured that several of the syringes were half-empty. There had been more than enough to knock him out, but not so much that he wouldn't have a fighting chance once he woke – it's the best Arthur can do for someone who'd once called him friend.

Evan helps him drag J'onn into what they all called the 'conference room' and Libra gives him a long look as the Martian begins to wake up. "He's still groggy from the pyro-tranquilizers," Arthur explains, careful to keep the hatred from his eyes. Libra sees it anyway, judging from the way his fingers tighten on his spear. 

Arthur settles into a chair around the huge table and watches J'onn from the corner of his eye while Mike Miller flips open his cellphone and aims it at Libra. "This is what happens when you mess with the Human Flame," the idiot says excitedly as Libra talks and Luthor mutters something to Vandal Savage.

"…a full-on, no bullshit, twilight of the Gods," Libra finishes, lifting his spear and holding it out for Mike, who sets it on fire with a cigarette lighter. _This wasn't my choice_ , Arthur thinks, turning his head slightly to look at J'onn. _If you can hear me at all, get out now_. 

The door on the far side of the room explodes off of its hinges, taking a huge chunk of the frame with it as the League arrives to take back their friend. Hawkman is flailing his sonic mace around indiscriminately while Superman goes straight for Luthor – he turns to see who is attacking whom when a pair of hands seize his throat and slam him against the wall. "I can't believe you would do this," Kimiyo hisses at him furiously. " _Why?_ "

Arthur stares at her for a moment before he realizes that he can't feel her power even though her suit is blindingly white. "He was going to kill them."

J'onn's projection of Kimiyo nods slowly and begins to release him. "Tha-"

" _It's all in your head! He's getting away!_ " Mike shrieks from beneath the table, and the illusions evaporate. Sivana stops clawing at his eyes and adds his own yells to the din as the Martian is stopped just short of the door.

Libra's burning spear flashes up, then down directly through J'onn's chest. A cry of " _M'yri'ah!_ " echoes off the walls, followed by the click of a cellphone snapping shut. And then…silence.

Luthor restarts his bluster over Superman as they all begin to leave – someone drags J'onn's body away, and Arthur exchanges glances with Evan as they step over the blood trail. "Doctor," Libra says politely, and Arthur turns back. "Would you mind explaining to me why he was able to fool us into thinking the Justice League had discovered us?"

He's bluffing; he can't know. "I have no idea what that is supposed to mean."

Libra reaches out with his bloodied spear and catches a corner of Arthur's cape, pulling it closer to wipe the blade on the white fabric. "I believe you do."

"I've done everything you've asked."

"Not quite everything, Arthur. I'm told you spent the evening with a special friend of yours. Perhaps you told her something you shouldn't have – is she still in your bed, waiting for your return?" Libra holds his hand out for Mike's cell, and begins to dial a number. "Why don't we if she's still there? There's an explosive device wired-"

Arthur doesn't stay to hear the rest. Shielding prevents teleportation in and out of the building so he's forced to run, shouldering aside the other supervillains slowly making their way outside. "Evan, I need your phone _now_ ," he screams.

Mirror Master fumbles for it and Arthur rips it from his hands as he draws level with him, using his teeth to tear off his right-hand glove as he continues running for the square of daylight just ahead. He misdials twice before he finally gets it and he can hear ringing. "Come on, _come on!_ "

She has to have gone by now; surely she wouldn't she stay at his place this late on a Sunday when both Yasu and Imako aren't in school- " _Hello?_ "

"Where are you?" he yells.

" _Artie? Why are you_ -"

"Damnit, Miko, _where?_ "

" _At your_ -"

Oh, Jesus, _no_. 

" _Get out, get out of there **now**_!" He throws himself at the push bar of the door, launching out past the shield wall and into the sunlight.

He teleports straight into hell. The breath is seared from Arthur's lungs as he materializes inside the burning apartment, and the oxygen brought with him from the parking lot creates a fiery kickback that knocks him out through the damaged wall. The force of it slams him into the crossbeam of the lamppost across the street, and he's too dazed to catch himself before he falls to the dirty sidewalk.

Someone asks if he’s okay, and he can feel someone else tugging at his cape – Arthur vaguely realizes that it’s on fire, but all he can see are the flames billowing from the apartment building. The sound of sirens grows louder and Arthur struggles to his feet, determined to go back inside. He teleports in, transmuting his body into light particles before he’s overwhelmed by the heat, and attempts to locate Kimiyo even though there’s no possible way she could have survived. _Maybe she did; she could have, what if…?_

His eyes function differently when he’s incorporeal; everything is brighter and more vivid. The shifting patterns of the surrounding inferno are blinding and it’s difficult to concentrate on his search, but when he finds the first sign of her – a blurred, dark shape slumped against the far wall – he teleports back outside onto the roof of a building across the street rather than looking too closely. Arthur doesn’t want his last memory of her to be…that, but even now the outline of her body recreates itself in his consciousness and his imagination fills in the rest.

Arthur presses the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to think of something – _anything_ – else. Kimiyo would have told him…she would have told him a lot of things. His eyes ache from the intense heat that seemed to have done something to his tear ducts, effectively drying up any tears he might have shed. He slumps down against the back of the ledge so he doesn’t see the building, and finds Mick Rory perched over one of the vents staring at the flames. “Mirror Master told me about Kimiyo.”

“Did you come here to console me, or admire the burning building?” he asks harshly.

He can see the reflection of the fire in Heatwave’s goggles as the man turns his head to look at him. “Actually, I came to tell you that I didn’t do it. Cold turned Libra down this morning, just after the march.”

“Good for him.” Down below, the rescue crews have arrived and he can hear the shouts of the fire marshal. “Evan didn’t seem to get the memo.”

Mick looks back at the fire. “Are you sure she didn’t make it out?”

The memory of his love’s blackened body appears before his eyes, and Arthur doesn’t answer. Rising to his feet, he straightens his helmet and walks to the far side of the rooftop where he stands looking out across the city. He has absolutely no idea what to do next.

He should tell someone from the League that she’s dead, so that they can tell her children. Maybe they can tell him why she didn’t just go home, so that he can have someone else to blame. Arthur stands there until the thinning smoke wafting past him lets him know that the fire’s out, then walks back to watch as the fire crews go back inside to look for bodies. They’re brought out in black bags, lined up beside the building where the curious bystanders can’t see them, and he doesn’t have to unzip any of them to know which one is her.

Arthur stares down at Kimiyo’s bodybag, his eyes stinging as they begin to rehydrate. _I’m so sorry, Miko_. 

Mick’s still there, watching him as if afraid Arthur’s going to hurl himself off of the roof. “I’m going to kill him for this,” he rasps. Heatwave nods, holds out the bag he’d stashed in the heating vent of their meeting place, and Arthur teleports away to the first location that comes to mind. He materializes above Kimiyo’s apartment and dumps the bag out on the plastic grass that someone had put up there; his clothes and wallet are still there, and so is the glove he’d taken off in his headlong rush out of the building.

His phone is there too, and he looks at it for several minutes before picking it up and scrolling through the call history. When he finds the number he’s looking for, Arthur dials and waits for Kimiyo’s best friend to pick up.

It rings five times before Kara answers, annoyed because she knows it’s him. “What do _you_ want?” _Kimiyo’s dead_ , is what he’d planned on saying but when he opens his mouth he can’t say a word. “I don’t have all day, Light. I’m hanging up-”

“Kimiyo,” he finally gets out. “She…she…”

“She…what? She _what? Where is she?!?!?!?_ ” Kara’s voice grows shrill as she guesses what he can’t say, and Arthur lets the phone fall from his fingers to shatter on the sidewalk below.

When he teleports back outside Libra’s headquarters, the place is empty – J’onn’s blood staining the floor is the only indicator that he was ever there to begin with. Miller’s nowhere to be found, either. The adrenaline surge finally runs out and it’s all he can do just to ‘port into the top floor of the nearest hotel and find an empty room.

As he fuses the door lock and collapses on the bed, Arthur catches a fleeting glimpse of himself in the ornate mirror hanging above the suite’s writing desk. He finally looks exactly as he feels, like a complete and utter failure.

He dreams of Kimiyo, laughing as she tries to salvage the burnt remains of the first meal she'd ever tried to cook for him. Looking disappointed in him as she waits outside the processing room on Stryker's Island. Angry because he's being arrested for something he really should have known better than to do. Tearfully relieved when the boom tube returns him from Salvation and back into her arms. 

Arthur opens his eyes into darkness; for a few seconds it's like she's right there with him… then reality returns and he remembers that Kim isn't there, not anymore. He glances at the glowing diodes of the bedside clock and rolls onto his back, ignoring his aching muscles. _She's gone_. It's been more than twelve hours, and the thought is still coursing through his mind. Kimiyo is gone, she's dead, and he's the one who killed her. Arthur raises his hands, turning them to look at the palms. There should be blood there.

He drags himself out of the bed and goes into the bathroom to scrub a finger over his teeth and spit in the sink. His face is smeared with soot from the fire and liberally decorated with cuts and bruises, but his eyes look a little less bloodshot than they were earlier. Arthur removes his helmet and tosses it in the direction of the bed, hearing it bounce off the headboard as he steps into the shower fully clothed and turns on the water. 

When the hot water slowly turns cold, he turns the faucet off and lets the last bit of water and tears slip down the drain. Powering up dries him instantly and, at any other time, he'd be ready to find something to eat. He's heard things about the Spectre, and has even seen it once or twice. 

Tonight, Arthur expects it to come for him but he's not afraid of being judged. The only faith he's ever had was murdered when she was, but he wants whatever masquerades as God to notice that she's missing and _care_ that she's not here.

Arthur leans back against the sliding glass doors of the balcony, not even bothering to look when he feels it finally enter the room with him. "Arthur Light," a strangely echoing voice says, and something akin to relief seeps through him. "Your judgment is at hand."

"You're late," he tells the Spectre. He can tell it's surprised, because its green cloak flutters with a sudden movement. Arthur tilts his head up and looks into the shadows of its hood, asking the question that's been haunting him for hours now. "Was it quick, when she died? Did she-" he takes a deep breath to compose himself. "Was she in pain?"

It looks down at him. "She."

Arthur feels like he's been punched in the stomach. "What?" he whispers.

"Who is 'she'?" it asks.

The grief he's tried so hard to repress - to postpone, somehow - swells up in all its bitterness. "What do you mean, _who is she?_ " Arthur screams. "You should be here because of her, you're supposed to be here because of _her!_ " The first tear tracks its way down the cuts on his cheek. "How can you not be - she's _gone_ , and you…!" 

The Spectre just floats in front of him as if it's gone to the wrong address, and pure rage ignites Arthur's power. He brings his arms up, sending a surge of light out through the palms of his hands… and it is simply absorbed. The tears are falling faster, leaving luminescent trails down his face but he can't stop sobbing. " _Who is she?_ " He pushes another bolt of power towards the Spectre, who doesn't seem to be bothered by it at all; he fires again and again until he's exhausted by the power expenditure and the force of his grief for the woman he loved. "She was everything," he whispers into the carpet. "Judge me." 

"No."

That brings his head up, and he's trying to form the question _why not_ when it speaks to him again.

"I will not Judge you. Instead, you shall Witness."

"W-what?"

"Come." It glides closer and the green cloak moves to envelop him as if it is alive. The world grows steadily darker until he can no longer see, and Arthur feels strangely weightless. Something within him…shifts… and the pain of his grief is suddenly muted, more bearable. 

"Doesn't God care?" he asks, needing to know the answer. 

The darkness lifts little by little, and suddenly he can see the Spectre standing in front of him. At least, it's wearing the same cloak but it looks like… "Hal Jordan," the man says, pushing the hood back and offering his hand. Arthur takes it out of habit. "Of course God cares. Kimiyo was a good woman. If you had trusted her, and confided in her, she would still be alive right now."

This simple – and bitingly truthful - appraisal should have him ready to kill Jordan, but whatever's happened to him is still deadening his emotions. "I know. Why-"

Jordan holds up a hand to stop him. "You withheld the information out of love for her. You accept full responsibility for your actions, out of love for her."

"The Vengeance of God doesn't give second chances."

"No," Jordan says thoughtfully, "It doesn't." His features blur, and while Arthur is still facing the Spectre, the host is different. "There is one of us on each Earth, just as there is one of you. Witness."

It takes him in the shadows of its cloak, and he watches as they solidify inside a darkened apartment where a man stands screaming at three women who are huddled beside an unmade bed. " _So none of you bitches leaves until I say so!_ "

Arthur draws in a startled breath, because the man… is _him_. He watches himself order the three women up on the bed to hold 'Donna' down for him, and the Spectre makes itself known in the same fashion it had come for him earlier. "Arthur Light. Your Judgment is at hand." 

The other Light screams in panic – " _I didn't do it! I didn't, it wasn't me! I just watched – it was Libra!_ " – even as his body begins to melt into a twisted pile of wax. Huddled by the bed, the three women shrink down even further.

"You are a murderer… a rapist…a tormentor of children…gifted with power over the stuff of light…" 

He knows what's going to happen and wants to look away, but can't. He's there to witness and as he watches, he can literally see what this man has done. Here, he is a murderer of Martians and children. Here, he has raped women. Here, he is a monster. Arthur takes his eyes away from his gibbering, terrified twin and looks at the Spectre, understanding why he is here. It nods, and he slowly steps forward until he sees himself reflected in his other-self's eyes. Raising his right hand in a stiff-armed gesture that points directly at the man, he provides the spark that lights the candle.

" _Burn._ "

This other Doctor Light goes up like a torch, and he stumbles back from the intense heat. There's only a small silence before the other Arthur starts to scream, great wrenching howls that rend the air as he burns. Arthur presses a fist against his mouth to keep from retching at the sight, sound, and smell of it. The _smell_ – it's the same stench that had been everywhere when he'd arrived too late, desperate to pull Kimiyo out of the building and the memory drives him to his knees to empty his stomach.

"Witness." Hal Jordan's calm voice reaches him despite the earsplitting screams and Arthur pushes himself back up weakly, dragging his arm across his mouth. 

The other him takes a long time to die, longer than he'd ever thought possible. Had Kim…? _No, don't think that_ , he tells himself but now that the idea has been introduced it proves impossible to expel. The full-throated bellows of agony have subsided into thin, shrill wails, and the…candle…slumps down into the floor as it's melted further. A spray of hot wax catches Arthur across the side of his neck and he concentrates on the pain of as he stares at it, breathing in the gut-twisting stench of roasting flesh.

The Spectre reaches out a huge hand to snuff out the smoldering 'wick' and the stuttered, high-pitched noises mercifully _stop_ though Arthur's ears are still ringing with them. "It is done," God's Vengeance says. They leave through the front door as if they'd merely been on a social call.

Again there is the strange shift and when the folds of the green cloak draw back, Arthur heads for the trashcan in a stumbling run and vomits even though there is nothing left in his stomach. "Is that what you're going to do to me?" he asks, coughing. He can’t help but think that no one should die like that, but doesn't he deserve it? Arthur gets to his feet determined that, whatever _does_ happen to him, he's not going to die with excuses coming out of his mouth.

Jordan looks at him from underneath the cowl. "No. You have already been Judged."

What? "But that-"

"There are many kinds of Judgment," he says, folding the hood back slightly. "You have Witnessed one of them. Yours is a little different." 

Arthur shifts uncertainly. "Is it lightning? God's supposed to be big with the lightning…do you do that whole Ghost of Christmas Past shit with everyone?" he demands sarcastically, just wanting it over with.

Jordan laughs and draws the cloak around himself. "You're the genius, Arthur. You figure it out."

Then he's gone, and Arthur comes to the slow realization that his Judgment is nothing more than being forced to live when all he wants is death. He sinks back down on the floor next to the bed, pressing a hand against his cramped abdomen as sounds from outside make him look out the balcony's glass doors. As far as he can see, people are destroying property and killing each other as if they've gone mad. He moves closer to the glass and places his hands against it, watching. _Her children could be in danger,_ Arthur thinks, and it brings him to his feet. Libra can wait.

As he slides the door back, the hotel's power flickers and behind him the television set turns on by itself to display a red omega symbol.


End file.
